


Ginny Weasley and the Laboratory of Slytherin

by Qurinas



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Dubious Consent, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-06-05
Updated: 2004-06-05
Packaged: 2017-10-24 23:23:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/269037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Qurinas/pseuds/Qurinas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ginny's life changed forever that moment the sorting hat was placed on her head and she as sent away from her brother's in Gryffindor and moved to sit with those clad in green and silver.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [huushiita](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=huushiita).



> This is the story I received (by far) the most feedback on and seems to be a favorite of people who have read my work. I enjoyed it quite a bit but was unprepared for the response to it. It was quite an amazing experience for me in fandom.

Ginny Weasley stood with the other First Years in the room just off the Great Hall where the rest of the Hogwarts students had gathered. The trip across the lake had been pleasant enough, but now she felt like the breakfast her mother had fed her before she had boarded the train and the sweets she had eaten from the cart were about to come up as her stomach did flip-flops.

It wasn’t that she was specifically nervous about the sorting, even though her twin older brothers Fred and George had filled her with mysterious tales hinting that the sorting was incredibly painful. She knew the truth since Ron had told her what to expect. Always trying to safeguard her, Ron had withstood the insults and jeers from George and Fred about contradicting their horror stories in good humor. That was hardly the first time Ron had looked out for his younger sister.

The large oak door swung open with a long, low creak and Professor McGonagall returned as she said she would after leading them from the dock to the antechamber. “Follow me,” she said, her tone even and proper, before ushering the line of children into the Great Hall.

Everyone from the four house tables stared at the line of new students. Ginny’s palms were sweating and her heart hammered in her chest as she tried to ignore the many eyes upon her. She could see her three of brothers over at the Gryffindor table with Hermione Granger.

She was disappointed to see that Ron and his friend Harry Potter weren’t seated at the table. After missing the train, it was impossible to say when they would arrive. She was sad that they wouldn’t be there to applaud her.

Ginny was so caught up in her thoughts that the line slowly grew shorter without her noticing. She hadn’t even heard the cheers from the tables as the children before her were sorted, their names or even the houses they now belonged to.

In reality, Ginny hadn’t given much thought to the sorting process in the time leading up to her first year at Hogwarts. She was certain that she would be wearing the red and gold every one of her brothers and even her parents had worn. Applause would ring out from everyone at the Gryffindor table and she would go to sit next to Ron. The only snag so far was that Ron was still nowhere to be found, which would make the sitting down next to him part of her vision a little difficult to realize.

As the line got shorter and shorter an overwhelming anxiety filled her. She could not explain what caused it or why she felt it. She only knew she did and the feeling threatened to drown her. “Weasley, Ginevra,” she heard Professor McGonagall call out loudly.

The stool with the Sorting Hat seemed miles away and felt like it took her hours instead of seconds to traverse the distance. The Head of Gryffindor House moved the ratty pointed hat from the stool and she climbed unsteadily atop it. She felt the weight upon her head and felt the material of the hat shift of its own accord.

 _Very interesting,_ she heard a croaking voice say. _This is going to be most difficult._ As she heard the words, she realized she hadn’t heard the hat speak once while it was on other people’s heads. As she looked out at the students observing her, it quickly became obvious no one had heard it besides her.

 _Why?_ she though, tentatively. _It’s obvious where I belong._

 _Is it now?_ the hat asked. _Why is it so obvious? Because of the placement of your other family members that I've sorted already? Young Witch, I have been doing this a long time. I think I know more about it than you._

 _Please say Gryffindor,_ Ginny thought before she could stop herself. _I can’t be anything else._

 _No,_ the Sorting Hat answered. _It’s not that you can’t be anything else, but that you can’t be anything but what you are._

Before she could even form thoughts of protest, she heard the hat boom out from above her. “Slytherin!”

Ginny looked around anxiously. She could see her older brothers staring, dumbstruck at her. She looked over at the Slytherin table, where she got a few bored stares, a couple snide looks and a smattering of half-hearted applause.

She fought back tears, drawing more contemptuous looks from her house table, as she walked the short distance and sat down.

 

* * * *

 

Hogwart's was still except for the harsh early-spring winds that howled outside, slipping through the cracks of the ancient castle creating drafts that felt more likes gales. Tears streamed down Ginny's face as she pondered the absurdity of her situation. She knew her brothers had been concerned about her behavior. Here it was, her first year at Hogwart's and, instead of reveling in it, she had been miserable the whole time. Not even Ron, who had always been her knight in shining armor at home, could come to her rescue.

From across the Great Hall or in the corridors, she could feel her brothers' and friends' eyes upon her. She could feel their worry, though they were wrong about what to worry about. While it was true she didn't really fit in very well with her housemates that was hardly the worst of it.

She had a secret that was more distressing. So much worse, because she couldn't remember just what she had been doing in the dark of night as she wandered through the castle. To an outside observer, it would seem that she was sleepwalking, but in her heart she knew otherwise. Something dark was afoot and she was involved somehow.

Ginny just didn't realize how involved.

It wouldn’t be long before she learned that her secret had revolved around the mysterious diary she had found and wrote in. The dark memories within fed upon her fears and her own murky feelings. It would come to pass that Harry Potter would save her from death at the hands of Tom Riddle, the man destined to become Lord Voldemort. But, no one could have guessed what direction her life would take from there.

 

* * * *

It had been nearly two years since she had nearly died upon the floor of the Chamber of Secrets. A lot had changed in that time period, but her doubts still remained. In that time, Ginny had become a master of hexes and curses. No student at the school could come close to her level of expertise and even Harry Potter was hard pressed to defend against her spells on the few times he had occasion to.

Some of her teachers seemed genuinely concerned. Not only about her proficiency, but her seemingly unrestrained use of the spells at the smallest provocation. Only Professor Snape seemed happy about her progress with such things. And, unlike with all her brothers, the Head of Slytherin House was actually fair and even supportive with her.

Ginny often caught herself often thinking about forbidden hexes and curses and fought to stop herself. She felt as if such things shouldn’t tempt her. That she had been taught better than that. But as time passed and she heard more and more about the Dark Arts, Ginny became more and more intrigued by them.

Today, one of the last trials for the Tri-Wizard Tournament was taking place and Ginny had absolutely no interest. Though, even if she did, she had another matter to attend to. It was her hope that some of her burning questions would finally be answered. Now that she had a way, she would see what could be discovered.

She made her way slowly through the deserted castle and came to a blank wall guarded by two gargoyles. Smirking, Ginny spoke to them, “Glitterslythes.” The gargoyles leapt aside to reveal a slowly turning staircase she knew lead up to Headmaster Dumbledore’s office.

It hadn’t been easy to acquire the password to his office. In fact, she had been trying since the end of her first year. Ginny had been unable to discover anyone among the student's who knew it. It wasn’t until a few weeks before that she had come to learn that Pansy Parkinson knew what the current password was.

Ginny's thoughts drifted back to the plan she had concocted to get it. She stayed awake the following night and when she saw Pansy sneaking from the girl’s dormitory, she got up to follow her. Once Pansy arrived at the bathroom on the second floor, Ginny waited a few minutes before entering. Moving through the door, she began to hear muffed voices and heavy breathing.

She entered to see a blanket laid upon the floor with two naked girls curled around each other, kissing heatedly. Pansy Parkinson was one and Susan Bones was the other. She could also see Moaning Myrtle peeking out from behind the door of her stall.

Ginny had waited until the next day to pull Pansy aside and reveal what she had seen the night before. It took a bit of careful maneuvering as well as a few well-timed hexes when Pansy’s bruiser friend Millicent tried to beat the stuffing out of her. But, after a bit of hostile negotiation, Ginny agreed to keep silent about Pansy’s illicit affair with a Hufflepuff of all people, not to mention the fact that Pansy was a dyke, in exchange for the password and Pansy’s own silence about who she had given it to.

When she reached the top of the spiraling stairs, all thoughts of how she had managed it disappeared and Ginny cast her eyes about quickly. All of the pictures were empty. Obviously, the former Headmasters and Headmistresses had better places to be. Or, at least, better places to watch the Tri-Wizard Tournament from.

She heard a soft rustle of feathers and a pair of discerning black eyes upon her as she looked over at a large red and gold bird that sat on his stand on the other side of the room. After a moment, Fawkes stopped regarding her and tucked his head under his wing to sleep.

Not knowing whether the bird had actually been fully awake or not, Ginny treaded carefully so she didn’t disturb the magical creature any further. Slowly, she made her way forward to a huge bookcase upon which sat a beaten and dusty wizard’s cap. Ginny stared at it for a moment, wondering if she had made the right choice. Should she have come her at all? Would she be able to get the answers she sought? Or even any answers at all? The decision was taken from her a moment later.

“Something stuck in your craw, Weasley?” came a gravely voice from the hat as the slit just above the brim moved and the top furrowed to resemble a human’s eyes and brow.

Trying to strengthen her resolve and wishing to put forth confidence she wasn’t truly feeling, Ginny snarled, “In fact there is.”

The Sorting Hat made a disgruntled noise similar to a human groaning low in their throat. “I see. And what has you here to seek me?”

“I think you made the wrong choice,” Ginny answered simply, though her tone was a bit softer now. “I don’t belong in Slytherin.”

The hat did not move or even shift its features for a moment. Then, a frown seemed to form at the tear above the brim. “You students are so presumptuous these days. You are the second student in as many months to question my decisions.” That hat’s features scrunched up some before it added, “Though at least the last was more respectful in the asking.”

Ginny tried to keep her expression hard, but fear welled up within her as she thought that if she continued on her planned course, she wouldn’t get much help from the Sorting Hat. However, it was hard to remove the mask she had been wearing since becoming a Slytherin. If it was even truly still a mask at this point.

Compromising, Ginny’s voice kept its hard tone but tried to be more respectful. “You’re the only one who can answer that question for me, so I had hoped I could impose on you to answer it.”

Making a low sound again, the hat seemed to regard her even more closely. “Yet you asked no question, though I will not make you twist, little one. You wish to know if I made the right decision.” Ginny nodded slowly. “I stand by my choice, just as I did with the other who asked similar questions of me.”

“How can you say that?” Ginny hissed through clenched teeth. “The one who became the Dark Lord tortured and used me. He had no respect for me and my place, my pureblood or my place in the house of the one he is the heir to. He tried to steal my life to replace his own.”

“This is so,” the hat conceded. “But, make no mistake, and this is the best counsel I can give, Tom Riddle is a friend to no one. He is without mercy or respect.”

“Then why did you put me in with his lot!” Ginny shouted. “Why did you think I would fit in with them? I spit at all of them and how they snivel at the hem of his robes.”

Ginny’s breath was quick and loud as she seethed with balled fists at her side while one of the hat's folds that resembled an eyebrow cocked itself slightly. “I grow tired of your impudence. But, the last I will say on the matter is this. Though, I feel with your disrespect, you are not even owed that. Nonetheless, consider the magic you are best at.”

The Sorting Hat observed in silence as Ginny obviously was considering its statement. “Hexes and curses.”

“Yes,” the hat muttered. “One of the many roads to the Dart Arts. Now I would think that Tom Riddle felt some sort of connection to you, to reach out through you as he did. Your anger and your reaction are as I expected. Now, what you end up doing about it will only support my choice of placing you in the house that has produced more Dark Witches and Wizards than any other.”

 

* * * *

Not long after her conversation with the Sorting Hat, Ginny Weasley began to actively seek the Dark Arts. It was not as she had done before when she fooled herself into believing it was mere curiosity, but to actually _learn_ the Dark Arts. Of course, at first, she resisted the wisdom that had been imparted to her. She rebelled at the idea that she could do such a thing, that she could be the kind of person her mother warned her so greatly of, the kind of person that was an _enemy_ of the Order of the Phoenix.

It was easy to convince Professor Snape to give her passes to the library’s restricted section. No lies were even necessary; the Head of Slytherin House never even asked what she was doing there or why she was doing it. She spent many late nights pouring over ancient tomes when no one else was about. Though, she needed to curtail her searches when Hermione Granger strolled about the shelves of the restricted section on knowledge quests of her own.

Even when Hermione was not making her annoying presence prohibitive to Ginny’s goals in the section itself, Hermione was often in the library at any given hour. At first, Ginny managed to convince herself that her need to look over her shoulder to make sure the annoying friend of her brother’s wasn’t snooping into her affairs was making it seem more frequent.

As the frequent meetings continued, Ginny suspected Hermione’s attempt at friendly pleasantries was just a way to manipulate her to allow the Gryffindor an easy way to spy on her. The distraction continued to grow and grow until Ginny was unable to get _anything_ accomplished in the library, or anywhere else for that matter, when Hermione was around.

It was like the more she looked at the older girl, the more Ginny thought of her even when she was not around. The feelings themselves were not so troubling, though Ginny was hardly at ease with them, but the target was even more so. It hadn’t been that long since she had learned about a part of herself, one that seemed fairly common among other members of the House of Slytherin. Ginny fancied girls, fancied members of her own gender.

Even though she had used the fact that Pansy fancied girls as well to blackmail her for the password to Dumbledor’s office, she didn’t feel guilty about it. She was Slytherin, after all, so the ends justifies the means. Besides, when Ginny decided to finally take a lover, she would be far subtler about it than Pansy had been. Despite the fact that there were many in Slytherin, as well as a fair number in other houses, that seemed to fancy their own, Ginny would never be so foolish as to believe that made them all part of some special club that would make them unable or even unwilling to use knowledge of each other's preferences to their advantage.

The problem was, that everything about Hermione Granger seemed to cause the air around Ginny to tingle with an electric charge. Her fluffy hair that was always an adorable mass framing her lovely face. Her smile, even before her teeth shrank somewhat, had an endearing quality to it. The lithe body beneath the flowing robes called out to be touched. Her maddening demeanor and openness, though something not to be embrace by Slytherin standards, was drawing Ginny to stride up and plant her lips to Hermione’s and taste her.

But even as Ginny thought and felt this, even as she fantasized and plotted her move, the thought made her sick and angry. Hermione was nothing but a foul, little mudblood, no matter the enticement of the package she came wrapped in. She was beneath her, above consideration in so many ways. If a pureblood wished something, it was hers to be take; no explanations, apologies or caveats required.

It did not take long for these thoughts to drive Ginny from the library. Her inner conflict required her to waste hours and hours of time she might have otherwise been pursuing the Dark Arts either in her dormitory or wandering the halls aimlessly. During these times, Ginny often pondered the future and what role she was to play in it.

Where would the Dark Arts lead her? What could she accomplish? What limits would she place on herself? Would it even be possible to place such limits after she was truly a master of dark magics? Would she be able to end the worst of Lord Voldemort’s atrocities or would they just begin anew with her at the head of the Death Eaters?

 _No,_ she told herself. _I will never do that, I’d die before I'd ever let that happen._ While it was true Ginny didn't disagree with all of Tom Riddle's ideas; pureblood superiority, understanding and even use of the Dark Arts, and some of the sexual ideals that he and his followers embraced, she didn't believe with his mistreatment of muggles and how he made the changes he made. The squads of Death Eaters that tortured, murdered and intimidated anyone who stood in their way sickened her. She knew there must be a better way to realize some of the changes Voldemort wanted to make in the wizarding world. Ginny just needed to discover it.

While Ginny didn’t disagree with all of the ideals that had led Tom Riddle to the Dark Arts, she disagreed with most, and the changes he would come to make in the wizarding world, she didn’t believe the Death Eaters were the way to affect proper change. There needed to be another way, she just didn’t know what that was.

It was late one night, as she wandered the deserted hallways of Hogwarts that she came upon the tools to implement change. The fact she had not yet discovered her methods or goals, beyond the death of Lord Voldemort, mattered little.

A draft blowing through the dark corridor had pulled a piece of parchment that dangled between her fingers out of her grasp. An annoyed snarl escaped her lips as she took off in a trot after the wayward parchment. Finally, she swung her arm down and snatched it back up. As she did, she saw a glint of green out of the corner of her eye.

Ginny’s eyes narrowed as she leaned back down and looked through a crack in a stone closest to the floor. She needed to move her head back and forth several times and was about to give up before the dim moonlight caused her to see the flash of green again.

Not wishing to draw any unwanted attention, Ginny worked her spells softly. With the care she needed to use to apply them, it took her nearly until dawn to finally remove enough of the stone to get at what she had seen. When she reached in, she found a frail wooden box. A thick layer of dust coated the entire thing. She withdrew it slowly and carefully. Once she had pulled it out, she discovered it to be no bigger than a muggle’s cigar box.

She blew hard across the top, sending a small could of dust into the air. Once it had cleared somewhat, Ginny saw the box was made of beautiful redwood and easily discovered the source of the glint of green. Embedded in the wood, in the shape of a sinister snake, were hundreds of emeralds. Now that they were unimpeded by dust, they shone softly with magic stored within them.

Tucking the box beneath her robes, Ginny ran as quickly as she could manage without waking the entire castle to the abandoned washroom on the second floor. She could hear Moaning Myrtle stirring in her stall the moment she entered. Not wanting to deal with her in the least, Ginny snapped, “Come out of that stall Myrtle and I’ll be sure the Bloody Baron comes in here and I'll encourage him to do whatever deplorable thing he wishes to you!”

Ginny heard a brief wail before a splash signaled Myrtle reentering the pipes. Ginny smirked maliciously in satisfaction as she ducked into the farthest corner of the room. Moving to sit on the floor, she brought the box to her lap and stared at it. She could already hear the stirrings of early-rising students that were headed to breakfast.

Not wishing to wait until that evening, not even sure she could manage it if she wanted to, Ginny tried to slide the lid off the top. It didn’t move a bit. She tried to pry it open with the same result. Turning the box over in her hand, it felt empty for nothing seemed to shift within as she moved it. However, she knew, just knew, that there was something within; something of great import.

The minutes passed and Ginny’s frustration grew as she was at a loss to open what appeared to be a simple box! Exasperated, she slammed the palm of her down on the lid and hissed a curse. She yelped in pain as she felt something drive into the soft flesh of her palm. She felt dampness and warmth and immediately knew it was blood running down the box from the fresh wound in her hand.

Lifting her hand away, Ginny saw one of the gems had risen slightly above the rest and it glistened with her blood on the sharp tip. The cover released with an audible click and an instant later, a figure appeared beside her. Ginny gasped as she recognized him. It was Tom Riddle, looking perhaps a few years younger than when she had seen him within the pages of his diary and the Chamber of Secrets. _A vision of Tom Riddle,_ she corrected herself in her mind. _Since he looks younger, I bet he doesn’t know all the things the memory of him in his diary did. And, I hope he hasn’t been active enough to learn._

“You have nothing to fear from me, for you are pureblood,” Tom Riddle said evenly, his voice seeming to convey all the power she knew he possessed at the time. “You are one of the few to find this box since the day I did during my time at this weak and foolish school.”

“What is it?” Ginny asked as she gestured with the box, trying to keep her tone even as she slowly regained her composure.

“That is a very useful magical artifact, passed down from none other the Salazaar Slytherin himself,” Tom answered with a malevolent smile. “Though, that,” he said nodding at the bloody gem, “Is an invention of my own. Just to be sure no one who was not of pureblood would ever be able to open it. For some reason, no such enchantment was in place when I found the artifact. I added it when I left it for others of like mind and equally pure lineage to find.”

Ginny’s eyes narrowed at him. If, in fact, Salazaar Slytherin had left this for his heir, Tom would have never been able to open it with that kind of protection in place because he was only halfblood. That confirmed in her mind her early thoughts and set her at ease a bit in dealing with him. Ginny considering mentioning his half-blood lineage, but decided it wasn’t worth the inevitable row it would cause. “Why did you leave it?”

“Within that box are numerous pieces of invaluable teaching aides for those who wish to learn the Dark Arts,” Tom Riddle explained. “You do wish to learn the dark arts, I can see it within you. In fact, I am quite sure you have already learned some of them, yes?”

Ginny’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Yes, and I am quite adept at what I have learned thus far.”

Tom laughed, a sound that was neither happy nor comforting. “Of course you are. Now open the box and see what is within.”

Looking down at the box, Ginny took the lid in her fingers and lifted it away. A soft light emanated from the opening as if there were fires burning within. Once the lid was clear, Ginny could see inside. A large desk sat in the center of the box, surrounded by miniature bookshelves, tables filled with cauldrons and other potion making materials, other strange instruments and items were strewn about the floor, shelves and tables as well as the desk.

“What is this?” Ginny asked, awe in her voice.

“It is, or should I say was, Salazaar Slytherin’s office within Hogwarts,” Tom said with a sinister smile. “He knew based on the weakness of the other founders that the Dark Arts would never be taught at Hogwarts. So, he enchanted his office and placed it within this box when he left the school. All one must do is say the command phrase and they will be drawn in. Their own secret laboratory of the Dark Arts.”

It took great effort but Ginny eventually pulled her eyes away from the box and back to Tom. “You said you left it for others of like mind. Has anyone else used this since you left Hogwarts?”

“Yes, there has been a small number,” Tom answered with a blasé shrug. “The most recent were Bellatrix and Narcissa Black. They were sisters, I believe. Though one wouldn't have been led to believe that watching them. They spent more time inside the office doing other things besides studying.”

Ginny’s eyebrow arched up slightly. _He can’t possibly mean what I think he means. I know they’re sisters,_ Ginny thought. A moment later an image of Draco's mother snogging in the dark office with her sister filled her mind.

Shaking her head as if to clear the thoughts out, Ginny returned her gaze to Tom Riddle. She was quickly growing tired of his smug smirks and haughty demeanor. “Is there anything else I need to know?” Ginny asked, her desire to deal with even any reminder of Tom Riddle dwindling quickly.

“Just how to enter and exit,” Tom answered. Though he tried to hide it, Ginny could tell he was somewhat disappointed to be closing the only conversation he'd had in years and the only one he seemed likely to have for some time after.

Ginny leaned forward and her eyes opened wide in an expression of annoyed expectation. Tom’s brow furrowed and his eyes narrowed at her. After a few moments of staring at each other, Tom sighed. “Oh very well,” he said, trying to convey bored exasperation. “After you open the lid say: With all the magic that burns in my soul, I yearn to learn, from you and your chosen, the darkest arts of magic.”

“What will happen then?” Ginny asked slowly.

Tom’s disgust was obvious as he answered. “You will be drawn in. By Merlin, I hope you aren’t this slow in your studies or you’ll never be leaving Hogwarts. Are you sure you’re a pureblood?”

Ginny’s temper seethed beneath the surface. If anyone at Hogwarts had dared say something like that to her, they would have been hexed an instant later. However, even in her anger, Ginny knew the futility of hexing something that wasn’t really there. “How do I get out?” she asked after a few moments through clenched teeth.

Tom chuckled, a sound filled with contempt and condescension. “Simply thank your Master and you will find yourself outside the box again a moment later.” With a last arrogant smirk, Tom Riddle faded away.

 

* * * *

No longer needing to access the restricted section of the library, Ginny spent nearly all her free time within Salazaar Slytherin’s office-in-a-box. The only thing that she still made time for was the Slytherin Quidditch team. That was one of her few releases and great way to relieve tension.

By the time she was in her O.W.L year, she had mastered many hexes and curses. She was sure none of her teachers, with the possible exception of Severus Snape, would have been at all comfortable with her knowing, let alone using them, as well as many potions, spells and charms that were forbidden as Dark Arts.

Ginny Weasley became a force to be reckoned with in the halls and common areas of Hogwarts. Her personal favorite hex allowed her, with a flick of the wrist, to open a gash on the exposed flesh of her target. The size and depth of the wound was primarily dependent on how angry she was. Madam Pomfrey, often commented how odd it was that there were so many cuts and gashes that year. However, the students’ common desire to keep their grudges and feuds out of the sight of their teachers allowed Ginny’s alarming mastery of questionable magic never made it to their attention.

It was in her OWL year, when at least four parents of children within Slytherin House were in incarcerated at Azkaban that things really began to stir at the illustrious school for young wizards and witches. Of course, with all of Harry Potter's tussles with the Dark Lord and his servants, there had been a number skirmishes fought on the schools hallowed grounds. However, those skirmishes were about to become a full-fledged war with the children on the Death Eaters preparing to fire the first volley.

 

* * * *

 

"They've found it already and have it hidden away, I bloody well know it," Ron Weasley hissed as he leaned over the table to speak to Harry Potter and Hermione Granger. They were within the Gryffindor Common room, in the far corner where they often retreated too when they wished not to be overheard. However, it seemed unnecessary this night as it was late and all their housemates had already gone off to bed.

"Let's say you're right," Harry began, rubbing his face is frustration. "What can we do about it?"

"That's the rub, ain't it?" Ron sighed with a shrug.

"I think it's rather simple," Hermione said, sitting up straight and proper in her chair. Her annoyingly superior tone could not only be detected through her hushed tone, it was accentuated by it. "We know someone who can get us within Slytherin's Dormitory."

Ron instantly began shaking his head. "Oh no, I don't think that's a good idea. Nope, not at all."

Harry furrowed his brow. "Why not, Ron?"

"I don’t want my little sister getting involved in all this. She needs to live with those psychotic nutters, remember?" Ron asked in a rush, continuing before he could be rebutted. "Besides, it's unlikely that even those prats could bullocks up so badly as to hide something is such an obvious place. Forget I mentioned it."

"Come now, Ron," Hermione answered. "Ginny can take care of herself. Besides, we can make sure no one finds out. We just need to be subtle."

"Oh yeah, and we're so great at _that,_ " Ron muttered under his breath.

The daggers Hermione shot at him with her gaze withered any further cynical expressions before they could bloom. "I think we can talk to her about it." Ron groaned at Hermione's suggestion. "For Merlin's sake Ron, what now?" she asked in an exasperated tone.

"I just don't think it's a good idea," Ron mumbled.

Harry regarded Ron for a moment. "I think it's a pretty good idea, mate. She's really the best chance we have of getting in there without jumping through a ton of hoops and increasing our chances of getting found out."

Ron grimaced as he looked up, the look on his face growing rather humble. "I don't think she likes it when me, or even Fred, George or Percy when they were here, go up to her at school."

Hermione looked aghast. "Now why would you think that?"

Smiling meekly, he answered, "She said: Never come up to me when we're at school!"

Harry burst out laughing and Hermione instantly frowned quickly silencing Harry and Ron who had joined in. "Maybe I should try and talk to her," Hermione offered.

"Oh, that'll help," Harry muttered this time, this time becoming the object of Hermione's wrath.

"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?" she asked indignantly.

Harry shrugged and paused so long in answering that Ron came to his rescue. "It's not exactly like you two have been all that close," Ron offered.

"It's not exactly like we aren't friends," Hermione answered. The two boys looked to each other, obviously not agreeing with her assessment. "You think we aren't friends?"

They both shrugged before shaking their heads in unison. "Just because she says hi to you and is friendly while we're at twelve Grimmauld Place doesn't mean you're friends," Harry said.

"Yeah, and it isn't so much what she says as how she looks at you, right?" Ron added asking Harry for confirmation, which he gave with a nod.

Hermione made a noise of disgust, but said nothing and an uneasy silence fell over the table. Ron seemed to struggle with something for several long minutes. Harry and Hermione could both tell, but sat in silence waiting for him to come out with it.

Ron seemed to hope they would forget or let him off the hook, but after several minutes it became clear they weren't going to. "All right, all right," Ron moaned. "I just don't like it is all."

"Like what?" his friends asked together.

"Well, have you noticed how mum and dad have been treating Ginny this summer and even last a bit?"

Harry and Hermione looked to each other, as they seemed to consider it, but eventually shook their heads. Ron gave and exaggerated sigh. "How they try and keep her away from the Order's business?"

"They try and do that with all of us," Harry responded. "In fact, they're still keeping Fred and George out of the loop even though they have graduated."

Ron shook his head. "It just doesn't feel the same. Have you noticed as well, she seems to have an even greater flare for hexes these days, and she isn't limited to using them on just Slytherin bullies anymore. I can't even seem to tell why she's hexed some of those that she has."

Hermione and Harry seemed to consider Ron's words, but didn't have anything to say. Their silence led Ron to believe he was right on at least that count. That gave him the courage to admit what he had truly been feeling for some time now. "I hate to say it," Ron added finally. "But, I'm not sure me mum and dad trust her."

Both of his friends were dumbstruck for several moments. Hermione shook her head and was the first to speak. "Ron, you can't believe that."

"Can't I? It just doesn't feel right and I don't know why." Ron seemed to get more upset now. "I hate to think that, but I think it's true."

"Ron," Harry began slowly. "I really don't think that's it mate."

"I have to agree with Harry," Hermione chimed in. "I can't imagine your parents don't trust their own daughter." Hermione turned to Harry. "Unless there is something she did that we don't know about?" Ron shook his head, but still seemed torn by his own thoughts. "Well, maybe it's just your imagination Ron. Maybe you are misinterpreting something," she suggested.

Before Harry and Hermione could offer anything more, Ron quickly stood up and starting walking towards the stairs to the boy's dorm. "You know what, I'm being a git. You guys are right. I'm sure she can help us out and one of you can approach her. I can just tell you it shouldn't be me. I'm going off to bed."

Harry and Hermione regarded each other for a moment after Ron had left. "You don't agree with him, do you?" Hermione finally asked.

Harry shook his head immediately. "No, I don't. I mean, don't get me wrong. Ginny has been a bit harder to be around the more she's around the Slytherins. But, I'm sure we can trust her."

Suddenly, Hermione seemed to have doubts. "I agree with you. During the summers, I only really see her when she is getting ready to sleep and she hasn't been exactly kind at every turn. But, I don't think she would ever be in league with Voldemort's followers." Harry nodded in agreement. "On the other hand, Ron is her brother, he know his family and his sister far better than we do. Maybe we should listen to him?"

"To which part?" Harry asked, his voice unable to hide is annoyance. "The part where he said not to trust her or the part where he said he was being a git?"

"You don't need to snap at me over it…"

"I'm not," Harry snapped. "I just think he saw that he was a bit off there and admitted it. Now, we need to do what we can against the Death Eaters and Ginny is by far our best option."

Hermione nodded slowly. "Sounds good to me then, since you've already decided." Matching Ron's exit, Hermione quickly slid her chair back and made her way up the stairs to the girl's dorm leaving Harry alone with his thoughts.

The next day, Harry spent most of his time between classes and after alone. He had met up with Ron and Hermione at breakfast and reiterated his plan to seek Ginny's help for entry into Slytherin tower. He could tell they still weren’t one hundred percent on board, least of all Ron, but they offered no further protests.

It was late in the evening when he finally saw her sitting in the library, her nose nearly touching the parchment she was writing on and several tomes piled up next to her. Harry quickly made his way over.

"I told you to stop bothering me," Ginny snarled without even looking up. "I need to get this charms essay done and if I …" Looking up, Ginny stopped herself when she saw it was Harry standing before her. She smiled in only the smallest upturn of her lips. It was so slight, Harry wasn't even sure she smiled at all.

"If you what?" he asked with a chuckle.

"Nevermind," Ginny answered stoically as she looked around the library seeing who might be observing them. "What can I do for you, Harry?" she asked, her tone uninviting and off-putting.

While this was how Ginny normally was at school, Harry still found the behavior odd from the enthusiastic, friendly girl he had met on the train platform his first year. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Can it wait?" Ginny asked in an annoyed tone. "I really need to get this done."

Harry tensed slightly. "Not really, in fact, it's rather important."

Ginny regarded him a moment before putting down her quill. "Oh, very well. But, let's go over here," she said, getting up and moving toward the back of the library. "It won't exactly help my social standing to be seen associating with you."

Frowning, Harry watched her back for a few moments before following her deeper into the rows of bookshelves. When they were far from view of anyone who was likely to come into the library, Ginny leaned against the walls that met in a corner and regarded Harry. She raised an eyebrow inquiring as to what her brother’s best friend wanted.

“I wanted to talk to you about what some of the Slytherins might be up to,” Harry admitted.

Ginny shrugged. “Well, it wouldn’t really be to my advantage to do that, now would it? I mean, if I did, Gryffindor would win the House Cup for sixth year in a row. I would like to say we won it at least once while I was here, so I’m not going to tell you what they’re up to, it might hurt our chances.” Grinning impishly, Ginny waited for him to answer.

“No, no it’s got nothing to do with that,” Harry replied. “We think some of the Slytherins, especially Malfoy and his cronies, are looking for something that used to belong to Voldemort.”

“Why would you think that?” Ginny asked, her expression becoming one of near boredom. “They are always scheming about one hair-brained idea or another.”

“This time, Neville happened across Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle and Millicent as they were snooping about one of the corridors on the fifth floor,” Harry explained. “We thought they might have been snooping around for the Room of Requirement. Though, we had no idea why. It’s not like the DA meets there anymore.”

Ginny nodded. She was familiar with the DA. Last year, when Professor Umbridge had been in charge, she had been invited to the first meetings and encouraged to come and meet with the small group learning defense against the Dark Arts. She had refused, mostly to avoid possible problems with her fellow Slytherins and Professor Umbridge. Besides, she had plenty of her own studying to keep her busy.

“So, Neville didn’t discover what they were actually looking for?” Ginny asked, but didn’t wait for an answer. “I wouldn’t worry about it then, it’s probably nothing.”

“Well, he didn’t learn anything until about a week after that. He happened upon Malfoy while he was talking to his little girlfriend, Pansy.” Ginny snickered but when Harry gave her an inquisitive look she merely shook her head. “Well, anyway, they were talking about some thing left here by his Aunt Bellatrix. I guess he had been speaking to her at some point, as she is one of the few of his relatives not in prison. From what he heard, Bellatrix had found some artifact of Voldemort’s that taught her some about the Dark Arts. We think it might also do something else, but we don’t have the faintest idea what.” Ginny nodded slowly, her face conveying nothing.

“Neville couldn’t overhear anymore because he was caught eavesdropping by Goyle who roughed him up a bit before Hermione happened along and broke the whole thing up. We’d like you to see if you can find out anymore for us.”

Ginny looked like she was going to speak, but Harry preempted her. “We think though, they might have already found it and either have it in their possession or moved it to a safer place.” Harry leaned in and whispered. “We found a couple of cracked wall stones in an out of the way corridor. Most of the wall had been repaired, but after looking at it more closely and casting some spells, we think some of the stones near the floor were removed to get at whatever was hidden in the wall.”

Nodding slowly, Ginny looked to be deep in thought. “I think I can help you,” she said slowly. “I saw Pansy and Millicent acting really suspicious in the girl’s dorm the other night. I can see if they might give away anything else in the next couple days.”

Harry smiled. “That’s fab, Ginny.”

“The only problem is if I can’t find anything out,” Ginny added quickly. “If I can’t, we’re going to need to start snooping around the girl’s dorm for clues as to what they might have done with it.”

“Well, me or Ron could help…”

“Don’t be thick, you need to get into the girl’s dorm,” Ginny hissed.

“Oh yeah,” Harry said weakly, remembering the time he had tried to go up the girl’s stairs in his own tower. “Hermione then.”

“That could work,” Ginny replied. “I’ll send you a message at breakfast in a few days, disguised as something from my mother. Read it out, then put it away. There will be invisible ink on the page, when you get a chance, read it and I’ll tell you what I can and let you know where and when Hermione should meet me.”

“Sounds good,” Harry said, before whipping around as he heard voices behind him. “I should go.” He nodded once at Ginny and trotted off and out of the library. Ginny stood unmoving for a few moments considering what had just occurred. A sinister smile tugged at the corners of her mouth before it formed an even more menacing smirk.

 

* * * *

Ginny sat in the dark, having put out all the candles in her sanctuary of the Dark Arts. She knew exactly what Harry, Ron and Hermione had been looking for. She had overhead the same conversations Neville had. However, she knew that they were doomed to fail. For she now sat within the very artifact Draco and his little band were looking for.

The question that now posed itself was how would she handle Harry’s request. Her mouth had moved faster than her mind when she had been speaking with him the library. She had no idea why she had made the demands she had made or what she intended to do now.

She sat in contemplation for long hours trying to decide. From nowhere the answer hit her with such force it nearly took her breath away. She whipped out a piece of parchment and penned off a quick letter to Harry that she enchanted, then moved about gathering a variety of objects from the office. She would meet Hermione the next night. It was a coward that wished for something but through his or her own weakness did not take it. Ginny Weasley was not weak, already she was growing in power as a Dark Witch and she now knew what she wanted. Now all she needed to do was take it.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione fidgeted in her seat as the students filtered out of Professor Flitwick’s classroom. It was clear by Harry’s behavior that he wanted them to wait so he could discuss something. It was likely about that very odd owl message he had gotten from Mrs. Weasley that morning at breakfast when none of her children had received word from her.

“I got word from Ginny,” Harry said, after everyone had cleared. “She wants you to meet her in the Room of Requirement tonight at midnight,” he whispered to Hermione. “I’ll give you my dad’s cloak and then the two of you can see what you can find.” Hermione and Ron nodded, though neither she nor Ron were any more comfortable with Harry's idea than they were the other night. “She mentioned she had a couple places you could start looking, but had no definitive place yet. Hopefully, that will change.”

A few minutes before midnight, Hermione found herself under the shimmering invisibility cloak moving slowly through the corridors toward the Room of Requirement. When she arrived at the correct hallway, she thought of a place where she could meet in secret where no one would find Ginny and herself. After the third pass, a door appeared where there had been none before.

She reached out without taking off the cloak and turned the doorknob and slid in closing the door quickly behind her. Taking off the cloak, she turned and saw the room dimly lit by a smattering of candles. Hanging from the ceiling were thick green and silver draperies that covered most of the stone walls. Standing in the center of the room, was Ginny. Her long red hair was pulled back into a high ponytail and she wore her school uniform complete with her Slytherin scarf and looked as if she was just starting the day it was so well pressed and unmussed.

Looking down, Hermione suddenly felt slightly uncomfortable. She was wearing the long, pink, frilly nightdress she wore to bed and fluffy slippers. Her hair was bushier than normal and her wand looked funny sticking out of her pocket.

Hermione chuckled self-consciously. “Hi there, Ginny. Is everything all right? I don’t think I was followed, how about you?”

Ginny shook her head. “No, I wasn’t followed.” Taking a few steps forward, Ginny looked at Hermione appraisingly. Hermione blushed and was immediately shocked and somewhat ashamed of herself for doing so.

 _What has gotten into me?_ She asked herself. _It’s not like Ginny has never seen me in my nightgown before._ But as Hermione considered the situation, it wasn’t that Ginny was there; it was how she regarded her. Something in the way she was looking at her and the way Ginny was holding herself made Hermione uneasy.

Trying to get them on track and hoping it would make her more comfortable, Hermione asked, “What did you manage to find out?”

Ginny raised an eyebrow slightly before shrugging. “I know what they're looking for and that they haven't had any successes in finding it.”

“That’s good,” Hermione said, drawing a hard look from Ginny as if she was angered by the interruption.

“Yes, though it will be important that they don’t find it,” Ron’s sister replied. “That’s where we come in.”

Hermione nodded resolutely. “Excellent. Where do we begin?”

Ginny reached under her cloak and pulled out four small gold circlets. “Hold out your hands,” Ginny said, her tone conveying she wasn’t asking.

“Why?” Hermione asked, the uneasy feeling returning.

Ginny looked downright annoyed this time. “If we are going to work together on this, you can’t be questioning me every time I say something.” Hermione went to speak, but Ginny cut her off with a wave of her hand. “The path we need to take is treacherous, you’ll need these.”

Hermione was still hesitant. “I didn’t realize that the Slytherin’s area was so dangerous.”

“Well, perhaps you should have,” Ginny snapped, before waving the circlets at her. “You need to put these on before we do anything else. You’re going to need to trust me if anything we do here tonight is going to work. Can you do that?”

She took several long moments to consider before slowly reaching up to take the rings. Ginny pulled them back slightly. “Hold out your hands, I’ll put them on you,” Ginny ordered. Holding out her hands, Ginny opened the rings like bracelets and fastened one around each of Hermione's wrists before moving to kneel on the floor and fastened one around each ankle. Moving to stand, Ginny pulled out her wand and directed it at Hermione. With a flick of the wrist, the circlets glowed with a golden light and felt warm against her skin.

Hermione rubbed her wrists and adjusted them, enjoying the pleasantly warm sensation. "What now?"

Ginny grinned devilishly. "We take the next step upon the path." Moving her wand in a wide flourish, the rings around Hermione's wrists and ankles glowed even brighter. In a blur of movement, her arms shot over her head and her legs shot apart. The rings seemed to latch onto some invisible wall, leaving her unable to move her arms and legs at all and barely able to twist her body.

"What?" Hermione gasped, fear and shock filling her voice. "What are you doing?"

"You are a willful girl," Ginny whispered after she had moved closer, her breath tickling Hermione's ear and making her shiver. "Too willful. We will remedy that tonight."

"Ginny," Hermione began slowly. "Please don't…"

"Please don't?" Ginny mimicked. "Soon, very soon, you'll be saying please don't stop." With a feather light touch, Ginny ran her fingertips over Hermione's abdomen and over her hips as she began to circle her. No words were spoken for several minutes as Ginny continued run her hand over Hermione.

Hermione chewed on her lower lip, feelings of fear and embarrassment ran through her. "Ginny," she ventured. "Please stop. If you stop now, I swear we can forget this ever happened. I don't know what you're playing it, but it isn't funny."

"Playing at?" Ginny asked mockingly. "I'm playing at nothing. I'm just trying to figure out the best way to break that willfulness." Moving to stand just inches in front of her, Ginny ran her hand up Hermione's body until she was lazily circling her breast. Beneath the soft fabric of her nightshirt, Hermione felt her nipple stiffen. Suddenly, Ginny took the raised flesh between her fingers and pinched down hard.

Hermione yelped and her body tried to twist away but Ginny held on firmly. After a moment, Ginny released her nipple. Hermione's eyes became glassy and she licked her bottom lip where her teeth had found it. "And you didn't speak this time," Ginny murmured. "Good."

Trembling, Hermione refused to speak figuring it would at least buy her some time to think of a way out of her situation. Despite her mind’s protests, she could feel her panties growing hot and damp between her thighs. Her cheeks burned in shame. Her mind and body were confused about their intentions already and because of this she grew more anxious to get out of there and fast.

While Hermione had been thinking, Ginny resumed pacing around her, gently trailing her fingers over her body. Each circle about her brought more direct and heavier contact to Hermione’s breasts and was causing them to ache dully as her erect nipple continued to pull tauter. “You can’t do this,” Hermione said after taking a moment to gather herself.

A resounding smack cracked through the room as Hermione felt a sharp burning pain on her bottom. She gasped, more in shock than in pain which quickly earner her two more hard swats against her flannel covered derriere. Biting her lower lip to keep from crying out again, Hermione waiting for another impact that never came.

She saw Ginny renter her field of vision, moving slowly to stand before her again. Her eyes smoldered with passion and power as she met Hermione’s gaze; so much so that Hermione cast her eyes at the floor overcome by it. Feeling Ginny’s breath tickled her neck as she ran her lips over the soft flesh there, Hermione heard, “Not so mouthy now, are we?”

She couldn’t even raise her gaze to look back at Ginny. Her knees were weak beneath her and she could feel her belly buzzing excitedly at what was happening to her. Though fear still gripped her heart in its icy fist, causing her to tremble. She felt the soft, wet pressure of Ginny’s lips as she kissed her neck before running a trail of kisses up to take her earlobe and suck softly.

“Not so willful now?” Ginny asked, a hint of playfulness in her voice. Hermione dared not move, fear of all sorts filled her: fear Ginny would continue if she spoke, fear Ginny would stop if she spoke. It was all there at once along with the dizzying sensation and needful ache between her legs. She held her breath and waited.

“Good,” Ginny finally said, rewarding her for the first time by pressing her lips to Hermione’s. The kiss was slow and soft at first, but after a few moments, Hermione felt Ginny’s tongue push past her parted lips and delve deeper into her mouth.

Even though her body stiffened when she felt Ginny’s lips on her's, Hermione relaxed as the kiss deepened even as her mind screamed in protest. _I shouldn’t be kissing her, her mind screamed. I shouldn’t let her do this. And I really shouldn’t be liking it!_

Ginny broke the kiss and captured Hermione’s gaze. Wordlessly, she began to run her hands over her bound companion's entire upper body, teasingly raking her breasts and nipples on each pass causing Hermione to shut her eyes and breath faster and heavier.

With her eyes closed, Hermione again tried to think of a way out of her predicament. Each thought was quickly driven away by the distracting feelings Ginny’s delicate fingers were causing within her. She shivered violently after minutes of teasing and tortuous ecstasy.

Hermione felt a breeze slide past her legs as they were suddenly uncovered. She could feel her nightgown being hiked up before it was slid over her head and past the rings holding her arms in the air. Her heart pounded furiously in her chest.

“No, not like this,” Hermione whispered, her voice breaking under the strain. While she had kissed and even petted a little bit, she had never imagined in any of her fantasies that her first time would be like this. This was more of a nightmare than a dream come true. She was shaken from her thoughts by a sharp impact of Ginny's open hand on her bare ass.

She could feel her cheeks stinging and burning after a series of several more slaps. “And here I was thinking that you were learning. Obviously,” Ginny said, “I was mistaken.”

Hermione’s eyes filled with tears and Ginny reveled in her pleading gaze. “I'm your guide on this journey and I'll lead you as I wish. How much you need to be guided remains up to you, I expect I won’t hear your voice again unless it's begging me.”

Ginny’s lips moved to kiss up and down her neck again. This time, Hermione didn't close her eyes and relish the sensation. Instead, her gaze shifted about frantically and her expression became one of desperation. Her mind spun frantically as she felt Ginny’s lips on the soft skin of her neck. But, when she felt teeth press against her neck, Hermione swooned and hung limply by her wrists as all thought evaporated.

Ginny’s fingers began to run up and down her thighs and before she could even think, her legs relaxed and no longer fought to stay closed against the restraints of the rings around her ankles. A moan escaped her as she felt Ginny’s fingers duck beneath the waistband of her panties and run through the wispy curls above her velvety folds. A soft chuckle emerged from Ginny as she continued to kiss and suck at her neck. She felt the fingers move deeper and run between her slit which was soaked with her juices. Hermione was so wet Ginny’s finger slid in easily when she pressed it to her opening. Hermione pressed her hips down to meet Ginny’s hand.

“Are you begging me now?” Ginny cooed.

Hermione nodded even though her mind was still reeling trying to resolve the conflict between her thoughts and her body. Feeling a slight pain, she paused as she stretched to accommodate a second finger before pressing down again an instant later. The last of her thoughts, good or ill, disappeared in the slow and rhythmic thrusting of Ginny’s fingers inside her. Hermione’s whole body was alight with heat that matched the heat of the glowing red skin on her bottom. She could feel the area just below her bellybutton practically buzzing and each thrust caused her whole stomach to flutter as it tensed and relaxed.

“Do not until you ask,” Ginny hissed as she stopped kissing Hermione’s neck.

Hermione looked up to meet Ginny’s gaze. This time she knew she was not supposed to look away. She didn’t know how she knew, she just did. Fighting against the feeling within her, she tried desperately to hold against the tide she could feel rising.

“Do you want to?” Ginny asked. Hermione nodded frantically. “Tell me.”

Hermione's cheeks flushed an even deeper red in embarrassment and further shame as Ginny’s fingers began to stir within her with each thrust. Ginny’s thumb reached up to press firmly to her clitoris and Hermione thought she was going to not only come, but that she might very well pass out.

“Tell me,” she heard again, more insistent. The finger probed deeper, faster and harder. Still she only bit her lip and fought.

“Tell me,” Ginny whispered as she leaned in to flick her tongue over Hermione’s ear.

“I want to,” Hermione groaned, unable to hold back.

“What?”

“I want to…” her cheeks burned. “I want to come. Please let me.” Suddenly Ginny’s fingers stopped moving and withdrew from inside her. She cried out in need and surprise.

Ginny pressed her body to Hermione’s and moved her hand back to nestle its fingers in Hermione’s soft curls above her swollen and aching clit. “I’m not sure you want it bad enough,” Ginny said before nipping thrice at Hermione’s neck.

Hermione didn’t know what to do or what to say. Instead, she groaned and pressed herself against Ginny’s hand and moved her hips back and forth. Each time she moved her hips down, Ginny withdrew her hand just enough to create practically no pressure. Hermione cried out in yearning.

“Tell me how badly you want it,” Ginny whispered her body still pressed against her.

“I want it so badly,” Hermione whined, a whimper escaping her as Ginny brushed her finger down and over the swollen bump above her slit. Ginny flicked her finger over it several times in encouragement. Hermione moaned loudly. “Please. Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please let me come,” Hermione panted, desperation filling her tone.

“You're learning,” Ginny whispered so softly Hermione barely heard her before she moved to slide two fingers back between her folds and deep into her well. Hermione could feel herself gripping at Ginny’s fingers almost like she was trying to capture her. Each flutter of her stomach tried to pull Ginny’s fingers deeper and deeper.

Pulling against the rings, Hermione arched her back and held her breath as she felt her climax churn through her. She tensed and held her body still, trying to keep the feeling as long as she could. When her orgasm sapped the rest of her strength, she let out a desperate gasp for air and hung limply against her restraints.

Ginny’s fingers still worked inside of her slowly and gently for several minutes as Hermione continued to breath heavily. A stifled cry escaped her as she felt Ginny’s fingers slowly withdraw. After a few moments, she gathered enough strength and wit to open her eyes and look up. Ginny had removed her robe and tossed it aside. She took off her sweater and loosened her tie before replacing her scarf to hang loosely around her neck. Reaching beneath her skirt, she lifted her legs as she pulled her panties off and tossed them aside.

Taking her wand, she gestured at Hermione’s wrists. Again, Hermione felt the soft heat she had felt before as the rings moved her hands behind her back before seeming to meld together to hold her hands together. Ginny them moved over to one of the curtains and pulled a plush leather office chair out from behind it. She sat down in the chair, the skirt rising so Hermione could see the hint of fire-red curls between her legs.

Ginny gestured with her wand at Hermione’s ankles and with each swish of her wand Hermione’s feet moved forward ushered by the rings. When she stood less that a foot from the chair, Ginny pointed down with her wand and Hermione felt herself forced to her knees before Ginny put her wand down on the chair beside her.

Leaning back in the chair, Ginny spread her knees wide inviting Hermione to come forward. Hermione gulped and hesitated. Ginny’s eyes widened in surprise and Hermione knew what would come next if she didn’t comply. A part of her feared the spanking she would endure, but another part almost yearned for it. That thought confused her even more.

Hermione moved her head down and between Ginny’s thighs. She drew in a deep breath trying to calm herself and drew in Ginny’s scent. The musky, salty scent of Ginny’s arousal caused Hermione to grow damper herself. Again she was shocked by her body’s response. “Kiss me,” Hermione heard Ginny command huskily.

Confused, she straightened up and began to move forward towards Ginny’s face. Hermione couldn’t believe she was going to kiss another girl on her own accord. She couldn't believe that at this moment, there seemed to be nothing more in the world she would rather do.

Ginny took the silver and green scarf from her neck and looped it over Hermione’s. As Hermione pursed her lips to kiss Ginny she felt the scarf press down on the back of her neck. Feeling foolish, Hermione cast her eyes back down and didn’t fight Ginny guiding her back between her thighs. This time, her face was mere inches from Ginny’s mound.

As she moved down, Hermione traced her nose through the curls beneath Ginny’s bellybutton and stopped when her chin rested on the leather seat. Ginny’s legs spread wider in anticipation and Hermione could see her open up for her. The slick folds that flanked her entrance invited her like she could never have imagined before this night. Her heart seemed to rise in her throat as nervous anticipation filled her.

Leaning in, she pressed her lips between Ginny’s folds. She felt the redhead quiver and a deep sigh emerge from her. Pulling away, Hermione tentatively ran her tongue over her own lips, tasting Ginny’s juices as she did. The taste surprised her and tasted wonderful in a way she didn’t expect. She did not know how to pleasure Ginny, but she knew she would try.

Flicking her tongue out, Hermione ran her tongue up and around the soft folds occasionally dipping into the tangier entrance before moving up and over Ginny’s clit. She lost track of minutes as she continued to snake her tongue all over Ginny’s sex. She felt pride and glee as Ginny continued to shift, moan and shudder beneath her tongue.

Again she felt the prickly wool of Ginny’s scarf press against the back of her neck guiding her to move up. Hermione found her lips just above Ginny’s clit and ran her tongue over it in long slow licks. Each lick prompted a renewed tug on the scarf until she took Ginny’s clitoris between her lips and began to suck.

Ginny’s hips rose off the chair as she pressed against Hermione. Ginny bucked, pressing her chin between her folds and Hermione shuddered at the sensation of wet heat and felt Ginny juices run over her chin soak into Ginny's skirt as she came with a loud screech.

Hermione saw Ginny’s arms fall to her side leaving the scarf to drape around her neck. Hermione kept her head between Ginny’s legs, planting soft kisses on her thighs and tummy until she felt the slack on the scarf taken up and was guided up to meet Ginny’s lips.

They kissed, working their lips and tongues slowly and softly. The taste of Ginny’s juices on her lips made the kiss like nothing Hermione has ever experienced. The wetness made their lips and tongues glide effortlessly and sensually.

Hermione though her heart would break when Ginny pulled away and motioned for her to stand. Ginny didn’t even need to use her wand to control the rings to bring Hermione to her feet and stand demurely, her gaze down and her arms still behind her back.

Ginny gently removed the rings from Hermione’s wrists. Hermione still did not move and remained fixed like a statue. “You will come to me again here tomorrow night,” Ginny said. “And we'll continue what we've started."

Hermione quickly gathered her things and threw the invisibility clock over herself and ran out of the Room of Requirement, leaving Ginny still sitting disheveled and panty-less in the chair, a pleased and weary smile on her face.

 

* * * *

 

Ginny went through the next day as she would any other. At points she considered she should be nervous. What if Hermione told someone? What if Harry and Ron knew what she'd done? What if Hermione had told Professor McGonagall or Professor Dumbledore?

She dismissed these thoughts readily. If Hermione had done any of these things, she would deal with it. That was the chance she took for being strong and demanding what she wanted. She would live with that if it came to pass. But, deep down, she knew it wouldn’t

Her convictions were confirmed that night when Hermione entered the Room of Requirement to find her sitting in the same chair she had occupied the night before. Wordlessly, Hermione entered and stood before Ginny. With a grin, Ginny reached for each wrist and ankle in turn to fasten a ring around each.

“Last night we became sisters,” Ginny explained as she took the Salazaar Slytherin’s artifact from under the chair and showed it to her. “I’m the worldly, experienced elder sister. You are the younger, spoiled sister. I will guide us from last night forward. I will teach you things and you will learn and obey. The better you obey, the better you will be rewarded. Understand?”

Hermione nodded slowly before raising her eyes to meet Ginny’s stare. But, even as she did, Ginny saw no challenge in her eyes, only submission. A yearning desire filled Hermione’s features as she continued to look to Ginny. Deciding to encourage proper behavior, Ginny leaned in and kissed Hermione deeply. She broke the kiss and reached into her robes and took out a small dagger. Hermione didn’t pull away as she ran it lightly over her palm before Ginny moved it to her own.

Ginny took Hermione’s hand and squeezed tightly holding them over the jeweled lid of the box. The lid snapped partially open. “Repeat after me, little sister,” Ginny whispered. “With all the magic that burns in my soul, I yearn to learn from you and your chosen the darkest arts of magic.”

Hermione didn’t hesitate. “With all the magic that burns in my soul, I yearn to learn from you and your chosen the darkest arts of magic.” With Hermione's words, a new path opened for Ginevra Weasley of House Slytherin and her new apprentice and lover as they vanished in a flash of light and appeared inside the Dark Arts Laboratory of Salazaar Slytherin.


End file.
